


The Vinkheta Job

by bboiseux



Series: Critical Role Campaign 2 [17]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Con Artists, Gen, Heist, magical deception
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-05-13 12:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14748962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bboiseux/pseuds/bboiseux
Summary: Nott just wanted to give Caleb a little gift.  If the storekeeper hadn't been such a bigot, she wouldn't have needed any help.  Unfortunately, he was and the only person available to help was Beau.  Nott called it the Vinkheta Job.  It ended up being a bigger job than she could ever have suspected.  A Critical Role Heist fic.Reading Time:abt 16 mins.Status:Dead (No Longer Updating)





	1. The Small Time Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwinVax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinVax/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **From the Prompt:** Beau and Nott bonding a little more, while either doing a con that Nott is used to doing more with Caleb, or stuck somewhere alone.

“Alright, let’s go over it one more time.”

Nott and Beau had ducked into an alleyway up the street from the mark.  Beau was made up, her hair back and one of Jester’s dresses (blue and yellow and full of florals) draped awkwardly over her body.  Nott had disguised herself as a golden haired four-year-old and Beau was having a hard time taking her seriously.

“I go into the shop and ask for the book.  Then, I offer to trade for this book.”  Beau held up a worn black-bound book.  “If he examines it, it will show up as arcane, he’ll make the trade, and we get out.”

“And what’s the name of the book we want?”

“ _A Systematic Treatment of the History of Magical Talents Among the Peoples of Wildemount._ ”

“And the author?”

Beau rolled her eyes.  “Vinkheta.”

Nott nodded, her golden curls bouncing around her head.  “Okay, yeah.”  She took a deep breath and raised her hands.  “Once I cast this spell on the book, we have ten minutes to sell this story.  Ready?”

“Yes, let’s get this over with.”

Nott murmured a few words and . . . well, as far as Beau could tell, absolutely nothing happened, but Nott seemed satisfied.  “Let’s go!”

Beau grabbed Nott’s hand dragged her into the street, marching towards the store.  As they approached, Nott knocked Beau’s arm and nodded towards the window of the store.  There was a crudely drawn sign in the window of a head with horns growing out of it with a red “X” over the face.  Underneath, it read “Humans Only.”

“Yeah, I already believed you.”  She screwed up a smile, adjusted the dress (which was far too large in the chest and hips), and reached for the door.  “Let’s go get this book for Caleb.”

A cheap bell clanked above her.

“Come now, Rosalind,” Beau said in an ear wrenching falsetto, “If you behave while I talk to the nice man, we’ll go to the bakery after this.  Mhm.”

For a moment, Nott (all blue eyes and curls) gave her a disbelieving face of horror, but then fell into a wide-eyed smile.  “Yes, mama,” she squeaked.

The man at the counter had perked up as she entered and was now smoothing his greasy black hair with one hand.  “Ah, my dear woman, welcome to Malik’s Rare Book Parlor.  I am Malik.  How may I be of service.”  His thick purple lips pulled up at the edges but didn’t quite manage a smile.

Beau glanced around the small store, taking in the dirty windows and stacks of musty books, before walking primly up to the counter (clothes bouncing around her).  “Mhm.  Thank you, my good man.”  She looked down at the child and patted her head.  “Snooki . . . kins, you can look around, but don’t touch anything.”

“Yes, mama” came the squeak again and Nott disappeared into the stacks.

Beau turned back to the man.  “Mhm.  Yes, I am looking for a particular volume of some import for my—” She coughed. “—my husband.  Do you happen to have a copy of _A Systematic Treatment of the History of Magical Talents Among the Peoples of Wildemount_?  Mhm.”

Malik had watched the child disappear into the stacks with some concern and was only now turning back.  He laid a hand (still slightly oily) on Beau’s.  She didn’t flinch or punch him, which she considered an amazing example of self-control.

“Ah yes.  I believe I know the tome you’re speaking of.”  His voice seemed to have spilled out of the same bottle as his hair tonic.  He licked his lips.  “A very rare volume.  Do you happen to know the author?”

“Mhm,” began Beau, “Yes, I know there have been several books by that name, but I believe the one my—mhm—husband—mhm—desires is the monograph by Vincheti.”

Nott’s voice cut into her ear in a hasty whisper.  “Vin-KEH-ta.  Vin-KEH-ta.”

Beau giggled in her falsetto (her stomach flipped over at the sound), “I mean, mhm, Vinkheta, of course.”

“Yes, yes.  An excellent edition.”  Malik put up his hand and leaned in, as if to share a dirty secret.  “It contains some material that was edited out of the more widely available edition.”  His hand brushed hers again.  “I’m certain I have that here, somewhere.”  And he turned and started browsing one wall of shelves.

As soon as he turned a corner, Beau lowered her voice to barely a whisper and said, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Staying out of the way,” came Nott’s reply, “Or do you want me to dance around the store like an idiot human child?   I could conjure up a lollipop to suck on.”

Malik wandered back with a book in hand and Beau gritted her teeth into a smile.  “Oh, mhm, were you able to find it?” she said, slipping back into the falsetto.

“Yes, yes, my dear woman.  Very valuable volume, but I do have it and not just the monograph version, but the first edition of the monograph that had a printing error on one of the color plates.”  He lightly placed the blue, dust-stained book on the counter.  “An excellent deal at eight hundred gold.”

“Fucking bullshit,” said Beau under her breath.

Malik drew back in shock. “Excuse me, madam!”

Beau tittered (oh gods, she actually was going to be sick).  “Mhm, I said, ‘that’s quite a bit.’  But—” And she drew a book out of her bag.  “—Perhaps this—mhm—book—mhm—may prove a valuable trade?”

“Please stop making that noise,” Nott whispered in her ear.

Malik took the book and paged through it, looking closely at the binding, all while giving Beau a side eye.  He dropped the book on the counter and mashed a finger against the cover.  “No, no, no, my dear woman.  For a book like Vinkheta’s, any trade would have to be exceptional, and this—”   He tapped the cover.  “—this is not exceptional.”  He leaned in and patted Beau’s hand again, his lips pulling into something that could not accurately be called a smile, but looked more like he’d twisted two worms into an approximation and called it a smile anyway.  The urge to stick a fist in his gurning face was becoming an insistent ringing in Beau’s ears.

That ringing was also Nott, “Don’t punch him!”

In Beau’s mind, she said, “Well, how about you trade it for not getting your teeth kicked in?”  Instead, she said out loud, through gritted teeth and a smile that was even beginning to gnaw at the shopkeeper’s confidence in some small primal part of the back of his brain, “Oh, mhm, what a shame.  Pumat Sol offered me quite a bit.  I thought it might be special.”

The book was in Malik’s hands so quickly that it almost slipped free and he juggled it for a moment.  “Ah, well,” he said, “I suppose, my dear woman, that I could take a closer look.  Just for you.”  He chuckled and then spun on his heels and disappeared into a backroom.  There came several thuds, like things quickly being cleared off a table.

“We’ve got him!” whispered Nott excitedly, “In a moment, he’ll check for magic and then—”

Malik emerged from the backroom, pace normal, but his hand clasped too tightly around the book and a strange looking pair of spectacles perched on his head.

“Ah, my dear woman.  I’ve taken a closer look and it seems that I have missed a few details.”  He pushed the Vinkheta volume towards Beau.  “I think that, with trade, I could lower the price to two hundred gold.”

Beau wasn’t sure how Nott managed to screech in a whisper, but there it was.  “A real book of that quality would be worth twice what he’s offering!  Who does he think—” And the whisper cut off.

Beau shook her head.  “Mhm, so disappointing, but still too much.”  She reached out for the book clamped in Malik’s hand.  “I’ll have to see if Pumat’s offer is still open.”

She tugged on the book, but Malik didn’t let go.  He chuckled a tight chuckle.

“I’m afraid I misspoke.  I meant to say one hundred gold.”

Beau tugged on the book again.

“Fifty!”

She tugged again.

Malik pulled back.  “Fine!  Equal trade!”

Beau snatched the Vinkheta volume off the counter with a speed that made Malik jump back.  “Mhm, thank you, my dear man.  Mhm.”  She spun around.  “Rosalind!  Rosalind!”

Nott ran out from around a pile of books.  “I’m here, mama!”

“Come, my cherub.  Mhm.  Let’s head to the bakery.”  She dropped the book into her bag.

As they started out the door, Malik put on the spectacles and turned the book over in his hands, the twisted smile appearing on his face again.  He looked up after the departing pair and gapped.  Through his spectacles, a steady light was glowing around the child.

“Madam,” he shouted, “Madam!  Your child—”  He stopped, looked down at the book and then back up at the pair and shouted, “Thieves!  Help!” And bolted for the door.

“Um,” said Nott, “Now is usually when we run.”

“Fuck.”

Nott and Beau took off down the street.  As they ran, Nott dropped the disguise self, revealing a coat bulging with books.


	2. The Case of the Wrong Books

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **For the Prompt:** could you do a fic based on directly after the Vinkheta Job where Nott and Beau give the books to Caleb and they both have to stop him from going back there to try and find more books that Nott didnt have time to get?

“Caleb?”  Nott clutched the pile of books to her chest and kicked at the door.  She was trying to whisper, but she was excited.  “Caleb!”

The door swung open and there was Caleb.  Perfect, beautiful Caleb.  He was already holding a book in one hand.  He smiled his usual sad almost smile down at her.

“Nott—”  And then his eyes caught the pile.  “What is this?”

Nott grinned from ear to ear.  “I got you some presents.”

She shoved the whole pile up into Caleb’s chest and he clutched them tight, the pile threatening to collapse to the floor.  He stumbled backwards and set the pile down on the floor.  Nott followed behind, shutting the door behind her.  By the time she got to Caleb, he was laying the seven books out around himself in a semi-circle.  He eyed each carefully before picking one up and flipping it open.

Nott saw the joy explode on his face.

“Nott, do you know what this is?”  He held up the book, as If Nott was seeing it for the first time.

Nott nodded.  “I do.”

“I have been looking for this for years.”  He flipped through the pages and Nott saw Caleb’s mind switch tracks—a sudden snap of his attention.  His eyes swept across the page.  “This . . . this is so important . . .”

Nott knew that she had lost him, but it didn’t matter.  The little flicker of light on Caleb’s face was more than enough.  Her own smile was wide as she watched him become enveloped in the words and diagrams.

When she went to bed that night, he was still on the floor, hunched over the books.  Something has ignited in him.  That something that made him great.

Nott hugged a pillow close and curled into a small ball and went to sleep.

She woke up early to the light of the sun creeping into her eyes.  She snarled and grumbled for a moment and then her eyes snapped open.

Caleb was still sitting in the middle of the floor.  The hunch in his back was lower and his eyes had deep bags under them.  The books were no longer in an even semi-circle around him, but were scattered in various states of disarray, all open.  He was glancing frantically between different pages in different books.

Nott sat up.  “Caleb?  What’s the matter?”

Caleb turned his slowly to look at Nott.  “Where did you get these books?”

“At a . . . store?”  Even though she didn’t know the alternative, it felt like there was a wrong answer to the question.

“What store?”

“Just a store on the west side of Zadash.  Caleb, what’s—”

Caleb picked up one of the books and waved it in the air.  “Something is very wrong with these books.  They do not make sense.”

Nott slid out of bed and approached the mess.  “What do you mean?”

Caleb scrambled through a book, searching for something, then he jabbed a finger at a page.  “This talks about the Battle of Torhaus Ridge.  Nott, I know my Empire history and there was never a battle at Torhaus Ridge.”  He flipped through the pages.  “This entire account of Dwendalian history doesn’t make any sense.”

Nott gave Caleb a wary look.  “So?  The book isn’t any good then.  It’s wrong.”

Caleb slammed the book to the ground and grabbed another one . . . and then another, dropping each of them to the ground in turn.  “Except the details match between each of these books.  If look for information about the great arcane users of the day, they are inevitably talked about in a history that is wrong.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Either all of these books are miraculously wrong in the same way—books that I have heard about in my researches as valuable assets to any magical library—or. . .”  He trailed off as if unable to finish his thought.

“Or?” asked Nott.  She knelt next to Caleb and looked up into his eyes.

Caleb looked to be on the verge of tears.  “Nott—”  He choked back a sob.  “—Nott, if these are not mistakes, then these books do not make sense unless—unless they are evidence of some greater magical event.”

“Caleb, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”

Caleb locked eyes with Nott.  The tears ran down his face.  “This could be evidence of a way to change reality—to make the world other than it is.”

Nott nodded slowly.  “Okay.  Yeah.  Yeah, maybe that.  Or . . . and I’m just throwing this out as an alternative, maybe this is just a really shitty store with really shitty books.  I’m just saying, it seems more likely.”

“Nott, you know what this could mean to me.  This might—”

“I know, Caleb, but that also means that you need to be careful.”  Nott set her hand on Caleb’s.  “Remember what we said before?  I’ll always back you up.  I’ll do everything I can to get you what you want.  But don’t give yourself false hope.”

Caleb took a moment to gather himself.  Nott saw his shoulders rise and fall, his eyes staring down at the book.

“You are right.  I must be less optimistic.”

Nott patted him on the shoulder.  “Well, let’s not get carried away.  I wouldn’t exactly call that optimism.”

“We need to go back to that store.”  Caleb’s voice was firm.

“Oh, well, I don’t know if we really need to do that . . .”

“Nott.  I cannot let this go.  If there is something that could do—do this—” He gestured at the books.  “—then I must investigate it.”

“Yeah, it’s just that . . .” Nott picked at the bandages around her hands.  “. . . maaaybe we could _not_ go to the store?”

Caleb fixed Nott with a long stare.  “Did they see you?  Were you almost caught?”

Nott had expected Caleb’s voice to be stern, but instead it was laced with concern.  It was easy to forget that Caleb, unlike most of the world, cared about her no matter what she did.

“Well, we—I almost made it out.  I had a great disguise—my little Halfling girl!—and I was just leaving, when—well, I don’t know, but it seemed like he suddenly realized he’d been duped.”

Caleb scrunched up his brow.  “We?  Was someone else with you?”

In Nott’s mind, she saw Beau’s face, still made up, her hair a lopsided mess.  She was looking down at Nott and saying “And if you tell a fucking soul about this, I will kill you.  Understood?”

Nott shook her head violently.  “Nope.  No.  Definitely not.  Just me.”

“Nott.  Who was with you?”

“Nobody.  Why would you think anybody was with me?  It’s not like the storeowner is a racist asshole who won’t sell to non-humans.  That’s the only reason I could think I would need anyone.  I’m really good at stealing.”  Nott was becoming increasingly aware of how unconvincing her voice sounded.

Caleb didn’t say anything for a minute, then “So, Beauregard?  Beauregard helped you?”

“I didn’t say that!” screeched Nott, “You can’t tell her I told you because I didn’t!”

Caleb was already walking to the door.

“No!  Don’t tell her!  She’ll kill me!”

As he opened the door, Caleb said, “I do not think so” and he pushed into the hall and started pounding on Beau and Jester’s door.

“Beau!” shouted Nott, “I didn’t tell him anything.  He figured it out with magic mind powers!”

Behind the door, there was a groan and then Jester’s voice mumbled, “Beau, why is someone waking us up this early?”

“I don’t fucking know.  Go answer it.”

“They called your name.”

“It is Caleb and Nott, Beauregard,” called Caleb.

There was a long silence and then Caleb and Nott heard the pad of feet coming towards the door.  It swung open violently and Beau peered, bleary eyed, into the hall.  “What?”

“Ah, Beauregard, I would like to talk to you for a moment about the books that you helped Nott procure yesterday.”

Beau shot Nott a look that said “I could rip you apart right now” but her mouth said, “Yeah, sure, whatever” and she stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her.

Back in Nott and Caleb’s room, Beau cast her eye over the disheveled state of the books and then back up at Caleb’s tired face.  Her face grew a little less angry.  “Okay, what’s going on?”

Caleb explained to her what she had discovered, what he suspected.  He told her of the possibilities it represented.

“Okay,” said Beau, “So you think this douchebag in the store is some super powerful wizard or something?  Cause I hate to break it to you, but he’s just a douchebag.”

“I do not know, Beauregard, but I need to see this store.  I need to see this man.  I need to see if I can figure this out.”

Beau looked over Caleb’s face with a tired stare and then sighed.  “Yeah, okay.”  She turned to Nott.  “I mean, he should be able to go in there fine.  We don’t need to be there.”

Nott gasped.  “Let him go in to that—that horror show by himself!?”

“I mean, it’s not any dirtier than Caleb.”

“Thank you very much, Beauregard.”

“Sorry, dude, but you don’t exactly take care of yourself.”

Nott broke in. “Not my point!  If this storekeeper is more than he appears, Caleb will be putting himself in harm’s way!”

Beau shrugged.  “No more than we did yesterday.”

“But we didn’t know then!”

It was Caleb’s turn to interrupt.  “That is not the point.  Yes, I need to see the store, but if it is something more, we need to get into the backroom and find whatever secrets are there.”

“Wait,” said Beau, “Are you suggesting, like, a heist?”  There was a glimmer of excitement in her voice.

“If that is the term you prefer, _ja,_ I am suggesting a heist.”

“Oh shit,” said Beau.  She looked down at Nott and then back to Caleb.  “Fuck yeah I’m in!”

**Author's Note:**

> I am also [bboiseux on tumblr](https://bboiseux.tumblr.com/). Come say hi! :)
> 
> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
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